The Sweetheart Bargain (A Sweetheart Sisters Novel)

by Jump, Shirley

  She got the feeling he was talking about something other than the yard. She wanted to probe but reminded herself of her no-relationship policy. Opening other people’s closed doors would only entangle her further with a man who had NO TRESPASSING painted all over him.

  Chance nosed at Luke’s leg. He reached down and gave the dog a gentle ear rub. “You want to do some yard work? You any good with a rake?”

  The dog wagged his tail and barked.

  “Are you sure you want to keep him here with you? He’s still recovering, and he needs to take it easy. But I don’t like leaving him alone, and he’s not really ready to be around a lot of people yet.”

  “That makes two of us,” Luke said quietly. Then he straightened and nodded toward the garage. “Come on, Chance, let’s see how those paws handle the shrub trimmers.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  He tossed her a grin. “Don’t you trust me, Olivia?”

  That comment sent a sizzle through her veins. Instead of answering, she said good-bye and headed back to grab Miss Sadie. But her thoughts remained on Luke, and her mind kept running images of him with his shirt off, working on the yard, skin glistening, muscles flexing—

  If she kept it up, she was going to need a cold shower. Or a whole lot of chocolate. Maybe she needed to get a vibrator or an X-rated book or something while she was out. Find something else to occupy her nights than thoughts of her neighbor. But after the way he’d looked at her, and touched her, and put those images of tearing her clothes off into her mind—

  Well, that was not going to be an easy task, honey.

  She opted for the chocolate and pulled into the parking lot of the bright yellow-and-white Tasty Tidbits Bakery located right next door to the Java Hut on the boardwalk, and a block away from two churches. The scent of chocolate and peanut butter wafted out the door to greet her.

  Olivia stood in the shop, debating whether to buy cookies for her meeting with Diana tomorrow. Did it scream of desperation or make her appear friendly? In the end, she called her mother, the font of everything wise. “You always told me to bring something to any important event,” Olivia said. “But what am I supposed to bring for the first time I have a real conversation with my biological sister?”

  Anna laughed. “That’s easy. Chocolate. And don’t worry about it so much, sweetie.”

  “I’m working on that.” Olivia leaned over the glass case and ordered a dozen double chocolate chip cookies from the gray-haired woman behind the counter. “I’m trying not to get my hopes up too high, but . . .”

  “They’re up there all the same,” Anna said. Her voice was soft, tender. “It’ll go great, I’m sure. And besides, having a dog come to stay is a good sign for your future. It means you’ll have faithful and sincere friends ahead, to help you overcome the obstacles in your life.”

  “I could use a few faithful friends who are handy with a hammer and nails.”

  Anna laughed. “If you want some money—”

  “Thanks, Ma, but I want to do this on my own.” Succeed or fail, it would be Olivia’s achievement either way, and she wanted—needed—this one big change to be hers, and hers alone. Ever since the divorce, she’d had that FAILURE sticker on her head. The move, the house, the new job, were all steps to erase it and fill her with that sense of accomplishment that had been missing from her life over the last year or two.

  “I’m proud of you,” Anna said.

  “Aw, thanks, Ma.” Olivia watched the baker assemble the cookies into a box, nestling them carefully in parchment paper. “I’m still worried about seeing Diana. I wish—”

  “If wishes were horses, beggars would ride,” Anna said.

  Olivia laughed. “You say that all the time. What on earth is that supposed to mean?”

  “I have no idea,” Anna admitted with a laugh of her own. “It’s something my mother used to say to me when I was a little girl. I’d get upset or worried about something, and she’d say, ‘If wishes were horses, beggars would ride. If turnips were watches, I would wear one by my side. And if ifs and ands were pots and pans, there’d be no work for tinkers!’”

  Olivia paused a second, turning that over in her mind, then shook her head. “It doesn’t make a bit of sense.”

  Anna laughed. “No, it doesn’t, but it made you feel better, didn’t it?”

  “Okay, it did,” Olivia admitted. “You’re always right, Ma.”

  “Of course I am. And when you’re a mom, you’ll always get to be right too.” Anna paused and her voice softened. “I miss you, honey.”

  “I miss you too, Ma. Say hi to Dad for me.” The homesickness hit Olivia in a wave again, and though she knew it was snowy and cold in Massachusetts and balmy and warm here, she missed the state, the people she knew there, the world she used to inhabit. “I can’t wait until you guys come down for a visit in March.”

  “Me too. Take care of you,” Anna said. They said good-bye, and then Olivia tucked the phone back into her purse and fished out some bills to pay for the cookies. As she did, a trio of people came in—two women, one man, laughing and debating the cookie choices.

  Lois Blanchard and her Constitutional Crew—her brother-in-law and her sister. Today’s matching sweat suits were a pale blue, with bright pink sneakers on the women and lime green for Ben. A three-year-old towheaded boy ran circles around the women, tugging on Lois’s sister’s shirt. “G’ma, cookie. G’ma, cookie.”

  “Olivia!” Lois enfolded Olivia in a quick hug, like a long-lost cousin. “So nice to see you, neighbor.” Then she drew back and waved to the people with her. “I’d like you to meet the Constitutional Crew. My brother-in-law Ben, my sister Emmaline. Our mother got all fancy with the last baby’s name, you know. And Emmaline’s grandson, Tucker.”

  Emmaline gave her older sister a dismissive wave. “You’re just jealous because I have a prettier name than you do.”

  “I am not. Lois was our grandmother’s name. It doesn’t get any better than that.”

  They sounded like sisters, and a part of Olivia envied the two their connection. Would she banter with Diana like that someday? Or would they maintain this civil connection, like co-workers?

  “How’s the garden coming along?” Olivia asked Lois. “I meant to tell you that I really liked the pink flowers you added. They’re a nice pop of color. You’ve got me all inspired to fix up my landscaping.”

  “Thank you, thank you.” Lois beamed with pride. “It’ll be so nice to see something blooming in your yard, too. Bridget—that’s the previous owner—never turned a spade of dirt in all the years she lived there. She was always so busy with those dogs. It’s a noble cause and all, but she could have at least found a minute to plant some shrubs or perennials.” Lois waved her hand. “Jazz the place up.”

  “You knew Bridget?” Olivia said.

  “Not well,” Lois said. “We were more waving neighbors than anything else. You know, the kind where you wave as you’re taking out the trash or bringing in the groceries. Like I said, she was always so busy with those animals.”

  “I keep hearing that,” Olivia said. The picture of her biological mother painted someone with little time for the people in her life. Because she was selfish or because she was so busy with the shelter?

  Olivia had moved here to find out what kind of person Bridget had been, who she was, what she’d been like, and thus far, she’d learned . . . zilch. Maybe Monday’s meeting with Diana would fill in a few blanks.

  “Here’s your change.” The brunette cashier leaned over and deposited some coins into Olivia’s palm, then put out a hand. “I almost forgot to introduce myself. Carrie Parks. Owner of the Tasty Tidbits Bakery and a lifelong resident of Rescue Bay. I’m as much a fixture of this town as the lighthouse.”

  “Olivia Linscott. Massachusetts transplant.”

  The two exchanged small talk about the Boston weather, Carrie’s cousins in Rhode Island, and the balmy days in Florida. Lois, Ben, and Emmaline debated the lowest-calorie menu item while
Tucker buzzed the café tables like an airplane.

  The entire scene brimmed with hospitality and neighborliness and should have helped ease the homesickness in Olivia’s chest. But if anything, it made her miss Boston more. She had yet to find where she fit into Rescue Bay—or if she fit here at all.

  “Welcome to Rescue Bay, by the way,” Carrie said, as if reading Olivia’s thoughts. “It’s so nice to see a new face around here. Our snowbirds are mostly retirees, so when we see someone under the age of fifty in the middle of winter, it’s about as rare a sighting as snow.”

  “There was that year Merlin Brooks brought back that trophy wife from Vegas.” Emmaline wagged a finger.

  “She wasn’t a trophy. She was an I Wish I Had Viagra.” Ben arched a pale blond brow to emphasize the point.

  “Your mama would swat you if she heard that, Ben.” Lois shook her head. “Forgive my brother-in-law, Olivia. He’s a little lacking in the manners department.”

  “G’ma, what’s a Viagra?” the little boy asked, tugging on Emmaline’s shirt again.

  “Something your Grandma Emmaline thought was funny to put in Grandpa Ben’s Christmas stocking,” Ben muttered.

  Emmaline just smiled, then grabbed her grandson and her husband and headed for the glass case to pick out their treats.

  Lois turned to Olivia. “How’s the work coming on the house? It looks like one of those TV shows over there, except without the hunky carpenter and the camera crew.”

  “I’m getting there. One nail at a time,” Olivia said. “It’s going to be a lot of work, but in the end, I’m sure it’ll be worth it.”

  Though she wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince the neighbors or herself. She’d put in hours of sweat and tears on the house, on her new job, and on trying to connect with her sister, and thus far, she felt like she was swimming upstream and not making any progress.

  “You know, I see you at Luke’s house a lot.” Lois put up her hands and shook her head. “I don’t want to know why or what you’re doing over there, and I’m not saying anything bad about my neighbor, but I do think you should steer clear, dear.”

  “Why?”

  Lois leaned in and lowered her voice. “This is a town where people like to talk. And they’re already talking about you. About how you’re living in Bridget’s house instead of her daughter, how you’re coming in with all these fancy ideas about animals and elderly at Golden Years, and about how you’re taking up with that”—Lois bit her lip and put on one of those fake smiles that always preceded a backhanded slap—“well, let’s just say that Luke didn’t leave the military under the best of circumstances.”

  “I know he got injured, so I assumed there was an accident or something.”

  “Oh, there was an accident. A tragedy, really. I heard all about it from Susan Mandel, who heard the details from her sister-in-law, whose brother is in the Coast Guard, too. I hear . . .” Lois looked around the room. Her family was busy at the counter, still debating chocolate chunk versus macadamia nut. She cupped a hand around her mouth and leaned in to whisper. “I hear he killed someone.”

  The word sounded harsh in the small space. “Killed, as in accidentally? Or as in on purpose?”

  Lois shook her head and her eyes widened. “No one knows.”

  “Well, thanks for telling me,” Olivia said, though she wasn’t quite sure if that was the right response. How did one react to a neighbor saying that kind of thing? Either way, the Luke she knew couldn’t be a killer, so whatever happened had to have been an accident.

  If so, it would explain his hermit existence and the way he lashed out at people who got close. If he felt guilty for hurting or killing someone else, that might make him react with anger, sort of like a hurting animal.

  Her heart broke for Luke a little more. The part of her that spent her days helping people recover their lives, their spirit, wanted to go to him with a hug, some words of understanding. But she also knew that sometimes, people had to claw their own way out of the darkness.

  Lois had started toward the glass case, then turned back at the last second and put a hand on Olivia’s arm. “One other thing I heard, that I think you should know, is about your house. I don’t know if you know, but Bridget had a daughter who lives here in town. She’s our local vet, so I’m sure you’ll meet her someday. Diana Tuttle?”

  “I’ve heard of her,” Olivia said, not revealing anything. If she told Lois the whole story, she had no doubt it would be all over Rescue Bay before the sun set.

  “Well, Diana’s not too happy that her mother didn’t leave the house to her,” Lois said. “Bridget probably ordered it sold to pay for that shelter of hers.” Lois frowned. “You poor dear. I’m sure you didn’t know any of this when you bought it.”

  “I knew pretty much nothing,” Olivia said.

  “I heard from my cousin the lawyer that Diana has been looking into probate court. I think she feels like the house should be hers. Though why she waited so long to do anything, I’ll never know. I mean, you’re already there, tearing up things and building new things.”

  The information hit Olivia with a cold punch. “She’s fighting for the house in probate?”

  “I’m so sorry, dear.” Lois patted her arm again. “You’ve been such a lovely neighbor. I’d hate to see you have to move.”

  Carrie came around from the other side of the counter and thrust a white cardboard box at Olivia. A jaunty red bow tied out of string held the lid in place. “Don’t forget your cookies. People say my desserts are the best way to make friends.”

  “Then maybe I should have gotten two dozen,” Olivia said. She walked out of the shop and climbed into her car, greeted by a flurry of puppy kisses from Miss Sadie. It wasn’t until Olivia pulled into the driveway of the house that was supposed to be the beginning of her new life, one that would hold the keys to everything she had wondered about since the day she was born, that she faced the ugly truth.

  She might not be wanted here any more than she had been that first day in Brigham and Women’s Hospital.

  “Don’t get rid of your winter coat, Miss Sadie,” she said to the dog, “because I’m not so sure we’re here to stay after all.”

  Eleven

  Four hours of hard, sweaty, backbreaking work, and the forest that had been Luke’s backyard began to resemble something civilized and green again. He’d trimmed and raked, bagged and weeded. Or at least as best he could. The shrubs were probably cockeyed, and he’d undoubtedly pulled half perennials and half weeds. He couldn’t tell the damn things apart even when his vision had been 20/20. But the yard looked better, and with a good mowing, it’d be something to enjoy.

  Chance stayed with Luke the entire time, mostly lying in the shade and watching the human’s progress. Luke talked to the dog, mostly because it was better than talking to himself, but also because it seemed like the dog listened. Understood.

  Crazy thoughts. He’d been alone too damned long, that was for sure.

  A little after three, Olivia returned. Chance got to his feet and met her at the end of the driveway, tail wagging, head butting up against her palm for a little affection. She indulged the dog, talking in sweet low tones about nonsense, just cooing praise and affection. Chance lapped it up, pressing his long golden body against her thigh, his tail moving at hurricane speed.

  Envy curdled in Luke’s gut. Insane. He was a man, not a dog, and he didn’t need somebody babbling at him. He wasn’t three years old, for God’s sake, and rushing to greet his father at the end of the day, still hopeful back then that there’d be a day when he got more than an absentminded hello and a Get the paper.

  Yet envy the dog he did.

  Olivia lifted her head and though his vision wasn’t much for details, he could see her dazzling smile. The envy shifted into something that could have been joy, except he wasn’t so sure he could recognize that emotion anymore. “Hey, Luke,” she said. “You’ve been busy.”

  He cleared his throat and closed the distance betw
een them. “Keeps me busy. This yard was so overgrown, I figured it wouldn’t be long before some of these shrubs swallowed the house.”

  “You did a great job.” She propped her fists on her hips and looked around. “And you did a hell of a lot of work in such a short period of time.”

  “It was good for me. Kept my mind occupied.” Instead of focusing on her, and picturing her in his bed. Lately, that particular thought occupied most of the space in his brain. Especially after that innuendo-laced conversation earlier today.

  Not to mention Olivia had changed into a pale-blue sundress and some kind of heeled sandal that boosted her height a couple inches. Her breasts perked under the heart-shaped bodice of the dress. Tempting.

  “You didn’t happen to see anyone over at my place while you were out here, did you?” she asked.

  He didn’t remind her that he could hardly see his own yard, never mind hers. “Nope. Didn’t hear anything either. Why?”

  “It’s probably nothing, but when I pulled in the driveway, I noticed the door to the shelter was open. It’s happened a couple times before and I don’t know why it worries me. That place is falling down. The door latches are probably loose.” She shrugged. “Maybe it was the wind.”

  There hadn’t been much of a breeze today, though, just the steady heat of Florida’s sunshine. The open door bothered him, but he passed off the feeling. Olivia was right, the place was in disrepair, and undoubtedly the doors were loose. “Or maybe Chance went over there when I wasn’t looking. Since you found him there the first time, maybe he still sees that place as home.”

  “Yeah. Maybe.” She was silent a minute more, then brightened. Still, her mood seemed off somehow, troubled. “Anyway, thanks again.”

  “Anytime.” It was the kind of offhand comment people threw out all the time, but for the first time in a long time, Luke meant the word. He’d enjoyed Chance’s company and the bonus of seeing Olivia twice in one day.

  “I’ll leave you to your landscaping. You’re probably making Lois’s day.”